


To Cross A Witch

by PinkRangerV



Category: Power Rangers, Power Rangers R.P.M.
Genre: Gen, Techno-witchcraft, Terry Pratchett - Freeform, Witchcraft, do not piss off a witch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 13:20:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11036997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkRangerV/pseuds/PinkRangerV
Summary: Terry Pratchett could never have imagined this. Or at least, some of it. AU.





	To Cross A Witch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IndigoMay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndigoMay/gifts).



> Dear gods above and below, this is late. Happy birthday, Julia, and if my unemployment doesn't end soon I'll send you pics from the happy hotel. :p

Sometimes, it is very obvious what gender a writer is.

 

Take Terry Pratchett, for example. It is widely known on Earth that magic is gendered; while anyone can access it, the magic of a man will be different from a woman will be different from genderqueer will be different from two-spirit will be different from…

 

Well, you get the picture.

 

Of course, some things are universal. Terry Pratchett got quite a good deal right. But in a universe where the Power Rangers fought Rita ‘Repulsa’, it wasn’t as if people were lining up to admit they were witches. Wiccans continued to be quite loud and pointed about magic being used for good, but everyone else just...slipped back into the thousands-of-years-old traditions they’d always used.

 

A woman’s magic, after all, is passed through the kitchen. Through the words of the mother and grandmother, the sister and aunt. There is no need for formal apprenticeship, for black clothing, for Boffo. It is just...mother wit. Common sense. What your mother used to tell you.

 

Through the kitchen, and, for cis women, through the womb. After all, most women do share that. Even some who are not women share that; the cycles and patterns a womb creates are sacred calendars, that do not require being a woman to use.

 

Magic is passed through kitchens, and through wombs.

 

And Terry Pratchett could not have quite envisioned this particular moment.

 

#

 

There was blood on her underwear.

 

Tenaya 7 grabbed some toilet paper, checking various locations. The center, she realized, the place that felt stirrings when she won a battle or saw a pretty woman.

 

The vagina. The womb. The womb was bleeding.

 

And she had a sudden, intense memory of this happening before.

 

She was all of eleven suddenly, eleven and blind, and feeling the blood on her fingers. She called frantically for her mother, and a woman’s voice came, low and soothing, talking through the door, telling her how to line her underwear so it didn’t bleed through, telling her…

 

_ “This is a sacred thing, Tanya. You are in a holy place.” _

 

Sacred.

 

Magical.

 

The power--well, it had always been there, hadn’t it? The ‘biofield’ the Rangers manipulated, that was only one way to perceive it. Magic, magic was the hallmark of sentience, and this was a planet that had once been full of sentient minds, and those minds had imbued even the bare earth with a power all its own..

 

It was belief, made real, and Tenaya didn’t quite remember more than that, but that was enough.

 

Because now she could sense the technology in her.

 

She did not know the phrase ‘techno-witch’ or ‘technopathy’. She just knew that she, with eyes that were not eyes, saw into herself, and could see how to erase the places where Venjix had control over her.

 

She hesitated. The bathroom was not a place for an epiphany.

 

Some things, after all, are universal.

 

She cleaned up quickly. There were no pads, no tampons. She would just have to bleed into her clothes for a while. Corinth would be the only place with those supplies.

 

It didn’t matter. The blood was there, and the magic was there, and that was all that did.

 

She stepped out of the bathroom.

 

Then she killed every bit of spyware inside of her.

 

She smiled.

 

#

 

It is understandable that Terry Pratchett made...mistakes. Took creative license. Did not, after all, get it  _ quite _ right.

 

But he understood one thing.

 

You do not cross a witch.

 

#

 

Complex systems fail in complex ways. Tanya had never been a programmer, but Tenaya understood that instinctively.

 

She ripped wires out as she walked past walls.

 

Crunch trailed after her like a puppy. Striker was dead. Tenaya had needed to practice killing a machine, to be sure she was doing this properly; she wanted vengeance, after all, and that required success. But Crunch was a perfectly good soldier. A little reprogramming, a little magic…

 

The word ‘techno-witch’ sprang into her mind. She had not thought it in a long time.

 

The lights were flickering. Her plan was working.

 

Tenaya moved on.

 

Magnets. It all came down to magnets, in the end--a computer simply could not withstand a large enough magnetic pulse. And Venjix still kept a little insurance, still wanted to be sure he could wipe out any pockets he found that weren’t fucking Corinth, because as he’d pointed out Corinth was protected by a fucking concrete dome, it was rather hard to blow it up with what was left--

 

But there was something left. Something good. Something to rebirth the entire world.

 

Tenaya knew what she was, right here, right now. Her mother had not spoken of gods, but Tanya had always liked the old lore, and there were always classes on it…

 

And there was the belief that death was not the end, but a transformation into a new life.

 

Earth had died. That did not mean Earth would not live again.

 

And for the moment, she carried all the energy and power of that rebirthing in her. It flowed through her, charged her up, made her feel almost dizzy with power. These were simple actions, simple destructions--even her vengeance was simple.

 

Tenaya paused before entering Venjix’s main chamber. She glanced at Crunch, and Crunch obediently went forward.

 

He was blasted to smithereens instantly.

 

So. Venjix had no traps, then, only his own blasting power. Common sense would dictate Tenaya stay out of that room and trigger the final destruction from outside of the building.

 

But this was revenge. It had its own rules, its own rhythm. You did not simply kill your opponent. You told them why. You declared the injury. You did it in the sight of all, not hiding like a coward.

 

So Tenaya took careful aim.

 

A blaster bolt was a small, generated cloud of plasma, contained by its own magnetic field. And that magnetic field could, of course, bounce off another, properly-tuned magnetic field. Like, say, the shielding Venjix had created around his most precious walls, the ones that contained his computer banks.

 

The shot bounced perfectly and struck Venjix’s ‘eye’. The column crumpled, a neat hole punched through it, wires sparking.

 

Tenaya strode forward.

 

“TENAYA 7. YOU ARE--”

 

“Out of line? Out of control?” Tenaya guessed, grinning. It was not a kind, friendly grin. It was a grin that spoke of blood and violence, very soon, and working in her favor. “See, the thing is...I’m not actually a robot. Am I?”

 

“SO.” Venjix said impassively. “YOU KNOW.”

 

“You forgot to remove my womb.” Tenaya pointed out. “I got a period. A period! You didn’t even think of that, did you?”

 

“...WHAT IS A ‘PERIOD’?”

 

Tenaya winced. “I can’t believe this. You lost because you didn’t know how our biological functions work? Seriously?”

 

“I HAVE NOT LOST.”

 

Tenaya reached out with her magic. “No. Not yet.”

 

It was done. Now she had to state it, to be open and clear.

 

“You left something, didn’t you? When you nuked the world. You left a nuke over, just in case you needed it.” Tenaya said. “Do you know what I am, Venjix?”

 

“I HAVE THE FEELING YOU WILL TELL ME.” He was trying, frantically, to regain control. He’d modified that nuke so no one but him could launch it, or direct it.

 

He had not realized that you could reprogram something to work entirely without wireless connections. At least, if you had time on your hands. And oh, Tenaya had nothing but time. She had just claimed to be sleeping and wandered off into the wastelands…

 

“A witch. A techno-witch. And that means I didn’t even need to go down there to cut you off from your nuke, but I did anyway.” Tenaya said. “Because I want you to know exactly what’s killed you.”

 

“MAGIC DOES NOT EXIST ON EARTH.”

 

“Oh, it does. It very much does.” Tenaya said, grinning again, that shark-like grin that heralded something glorious, in a very old sense of the word ‘glory’. “And I am the bearer of it. And you are going to die, because you kidnapped me, you implanted cybernetics in me, you forced me to work for you, you lied about everything that I am! And you will  _ pay for that _ !”

 

“YOU WILL DIE, TOO.”

 

“No.” Tenaya said calmly. “I will not.”

 

“RECONSIDER. YOU ARE IN THE NUKE’S PATH. YOU CANNOT ESCAPE IN TIME.”

 

Tenaya grinned.

 

Warnings started blaring.

 

“Let’s find out.”

 

#

 

No one in Corinth knew what had happened.

 

Venjix’s outpost was fairly far away from the dome, and anyway, it was made of meter-thick concrete. It was designed to keep radiation  _ out _ , or at least it had been overhauled to do that once everyone had realized nuclear apocalypse was a possibility.

 

Tenaya had always had her own private way in.

 

She got Dr. K’s attention by tossing her a thumb drive. The girl looked up, and then her eyes widened.

 

“Peace offering.” Tenaya told her. “I need some help.” She held out her flesh arm. “I’m not entirely a robot after all.”

 

Dr. K considered, then, slowly, nodded. “Okay. I can help.”

 

“Awesome. Try tracking Tanya Evergreen…”

 

#

 

Ziggy was the first to show up. He was defensive, and childish, and Tenaya was amusing herself laughing at him when Flynn appeared.

 

He leaned against a table and said nothing.

 

Tenaya eyed him, but he did nothing, said nothing, and so she turned back to Ziggy, but he was already gone. Tenaya turned her attention back to the search K was running.

 

“Hang on.” Tenaya said suddenly. “Modify that a little. What’s  _ your _ name?”

 

K blinked up at her. “I don’t remember.”

 

Tenaya sighed and leaned forward, tapping out a bit of code. “If you’re going to help me, you might as well do you at the same time.” She told the girl. “There you go.”

 

The name flashed on the screen, and K hid it instantly. “Later.” K said. “You first.”

 

“Sure.”

 

Flynn turned and left.

 

Gem and Gemma showed up to help K a few minutes later, babbling about things that sounded inane but were actually code for explosives and Grinders killed. It was easier without Venjix controlling them, Tenaya gathered.

 

She understood what they said because their patter was familiar. Because she had heard it before, in a cell somewhere, had sang to them at night, hoping a lullaby would give them back some of what had been stolen, trying to give them a bit of her happy childhood.

 

She was glad, on some level, to see they were alive.

 

Scott poked his head in half an hour later, glaring at Tenaya but believing K’s reassurance that it was fine. He didn’t linger. Neither did Summer, who did the same thing a few minutes later.

 

The search was getting closer.

 

Dillon was the last to walk in. Tenaya looked at him and wondered why he sounded so familiar. The voice was different, but haunting, in a way she hadn’t noticed when it was muffled by the helmet…

 

Dr. K looked up. “Dillon. Could you bring us your watch?”

 

Dillon pulled it out.

 

It played music. And Tenaya found herself singing words, old Welsh words, that went with the tune. They fell from her lips almost automatically, and when Dillon joined in there was a memory--

 

Tenaya glanced sharply at the search results.

 

Tanya Evergreen. Sister to Dillon Evergreen.

 

Twins.

 

Dillon looked at her, and he knew, too. And she knew, and she did not know what to do with that.

 

So she waited.

 

Dillon walked up to her and wrapped her in his arms. Tenaya pulled away and shut her eyes. There was a way…

 

She touched his face.

 

Her hands knew. He was scarred now, some stupid thing above his eyes. But it was the same face, and her skin knew his, she knew what his face felt like.

 

She opened her eyes.

 

“So.” She said. “That’s what you look like.”

 

The world started turning again.


End file.
